


42 Bots in the Cellar

by KingKiller



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Iron Man 3, M/M, The House Party Protocol (Iron Man)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-04
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-10 08:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/784079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingKiller/pseuds/KingKiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iron Man 3 Spoilers (kinda, sorta, BEWARE)</p><p>Tony Stark does not make replicas, he does not mass produce. </p><p>Each bot has its own quirks and own personality.</p><p>(Essentially: Tony builds the big, crazy family he always wanted.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. War Machine/Iron Patriot

**Author's Note:**

> Iron Man 3 spoilers.
> 
> I love the "house party," I might not get every name right and I ensure I'll make some of them up but I think they all deserve some loving.

Consciousness came suddenly and _painfully_. He jumped, jackknifing. 

A blare was sounding in the air.  Steve knew how to react: get shield, confront, smash. 

 _And Tony wasn’t here._ Steve’s innards clenched breathlessly.

Heart in his throat Steve rolled out of bed almost slamming on the floor, his feet slipping on the discarded suit shirt and slacks hastily thrown on the night before ( _God dammit, Tony_ ). His hands fumbled onto his shield. Despite the sand of sleep gluing his eyes he ran half blind towards the sound.

His footsteps were light as they easily ran towards the center of most chaos in the Avenger’s household: Tony’s workshop.

The incessant blare was getting _louder_ , an echoing quality characteristic of Tony’s workshop. And through Steve’s natural combat calm he felt adrenaline hitting his blood stream at the thought of Tony being in danger. _In their home._

Anger came hot and swift, and he now ached to throw his shield, tear into whoever would dare intrude.

Storming into the workshop, sun flashing off of what Steve could only assume the intruder, he raised his shield—

He blinked.

Was that. . . a _bugle call_? 

Iron Patriot ( _War Machine,_ an insistent voice of Tony corrected) was standing proudly in red, white, and blue, gauntlet over its arc reactor staring with sightless eyes into the blinding sunrise.

Out of the corner Steve caught the sight of Rhodes on the workshop couch, pillow over his head, muttering, “Make it _stop_. _Everyday—_ ” He looked at Tony; rumpled, unshaven, and steaming coffee mug in his hand.

Tony shrugged nonchalantly, “This is why he was put up for adoption.” 


	2. TARantula

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something in the air vents, other than Clint that is.

Clint liked air vents. They were strategically advantageous and perfect for stealth practice.

Clint refused to call it a “man cave,” after all Bruce had an entire, state of the art lab from his “Science Bro” so he had no right to bitch.

(If Clint had queried and checked in on Tony’s installation of his ventilation system it went uncommented. All cracks about “commitment issues” without Natasha in earshot were ignored).

Crawling soundlessly in the vents, Clint wiggled and squirmed while trying to recall which vent over Natasha’s bathroom had the best vantage point. When he heard it.

A thump. A thump not from him. A thump from an unknown source in the air vents.

Possibilities ran through Clint’s head. Not another alien attack and if it was one of Steve’s stray pets he was going to remorselessly tell Tony that there were critters running amok in his pent house and Mom and Dad would get in a fight—

It was coming closer. Clint froze. He could imagine the atonal music, the soundtrack of his life turning from _Fly Birdie Fly_ to the _Psycho_ soundtrack.

Sweat ran down the side of his face and before his stupid bird brain (he was getting out of practice) realized he could, theoritically run, instead of wait—he wasn’t freaking prey. A large metallic arm appeared around the bend of the vent.

 _No. Three arms_ peered around the corridor of the vent.

Clint _screamed_.

 

(Tony was laughing so hard until he was crying when he found him. Until he saw what Clint did and he screamed. That's when Steve came in.)

 

“Clint!” Tony was waving his arms around exasperatedly, screwdriver swinging. “He’s a new born! Think: foal, colt, cuten fluffiness! A new born being taking its first steps in the world! A toddler trying to make his first friends at the sandbox! And what do you do? _You fucking shot my baby_!”

Clint refused to feel guiltly for shooting the. . . 

Tony’s “baby” was large and black, with all qualities like all the marks except it had _six fucking arms._ It stared at him with blank white LED eyes, extraneous arms crossed behind its back as if trying to appear innocent as its bulking frame attempted to hide behind Tony. Clint didn't think this was a time to remind Tony of his height. . . deficency.

Steve plucked the screwdriver from Tony’s hands before it could come close to any of Clint’s arteries. Clint was thankful the someone was ready to confront the nesting mechanic. He watched warily as Steve stepped closer to the—the _thing._ Steve asked, “What’s he for?”

Tony perked up as he did whenever someone took interest in his work ( _Daddy issues,_ Clint’s mind supplied). “He’s a Tacticle Adroit Reconnaissance robot, he’s meant for surveillance and extraction missions. The extra limbs are meant to distribute his weight and bulk more evenly to then be able more noiselessly.” Turning to his robot, Tony cooed, “You’re a success, TARantula. A belladonna. An utter masterpiece. You deserve to go down in world history for sneaking on the Hawkeye himself.” And the bot freaking _preened_. Bitch.

“ _Wait_ ,” Clint interjected, trying to find some sanity, “You named the ‘bot  _Tarantula?_ ”

Tony looked confused and caustically asked, “Yeah, what else would you call him? You can't just call him 'Tar' because that's too close to retard, which is not only un-politically correct, but far from what this little man is.” Pointedly looking at Clint he added snidely, “Also TARantula needs to practice in the vents for now on, so I’m sure you can move you’re fat stuffed turkey ass enough to let him through.”

“ _Fat ass?_ ” Clint shrilled, Steve looked about ready to tackle him as if he was the one with loose marbles. Iron Man has clearly been smashed against buildings one to many times and Clint was going to add to the brain damage.

But before he could leap Clint halted, the distinct feeling of being prey to the predator returning. Arms wrapped around his shoulders and strands of red caught in peripheral field of his eyes. Clint saw how Tony's expression turned to looking viciously happy and Steve looked torn between standing by or going to help Clint.

But even Steve knew not to mess with the Black Widow. Most men feared her for her name alone. Rightfully so. Clint was both a stupid and lucky son of a bitch.

“Clint,” Natasha’s voice purred in his ear, a hand sinuously sliding down his backside to his ass. ( _Don't show weakness. Don't shiver or moan or Stark will never let you leave it down and you'll have to kill him and then America's Icon will then kill you--_ ) “You have added some cream to your cream puff.” Clint choked on his spit.

It took a minute for Natasha's words to cut through his signal confused mind before he coughed choking on his spit.

Clint could not allow this ridicule to continue. He spun on the robot that perked at his attention. 

“You. Me. Air vents. Pronto,” he growled at the robot. And the robot practically leap to its feet, its arms whirling, ridiciously excited. “If we're going to share the vents we're doing to my way. And I declare that we are going to play a game. A primitive, manly, and fierce game, passed down eon to eon.” TARantula stared at him guilelessly, Clint thumped his chest with his fist. “The gentlemanly sport of _Cat and Mouse_.”

TARantula chirped in excitement and happily followed Clin't military march to the air vents entrance.

"Look at my baby, making friends on the playground," Tony wipped an imaginary tear, turning to Steve, whose smiled helplessly, "They grown up so fast." 

Natasha rolled her eyes.

 

(Clint ignores all whip sounds-- _stupid Starkphone app_ \--and learnes not to expel his bladder whenever he catches TARantula hanging upside down in the far corner of his room chirpping what Tony claims is "Hawk".

Clint does not go anywhere near the workshop when Tony had discovered that his baby's first words were not his name but the "Dodo bird's."

Clint gave TARantula a toy archery bow and arrow set, if one of the arrows was from Clint's real set that was only for Clint to know--and Natasha. Because it's Tasha.)


	3. Heartbreaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heartbreaker acts exactly like what his name sounds like (except maybe not in the way you think).

“Tony,” Steve stood safely in the glass doorway of the lab, a foot hanging in the air questioningly, his sketchbook tucked under his arm. “Um—did something happen?”

Because Steve was pretty sure the hiccupping whirls was coming from the mark on the coach. Was that. . . was it _crying_?

A mark was curled, leaning against it creator in the leather coach, it chest plate heaving as if with great sobs and its chest light a melancholy deep blue. Around the coach was broken clay china, a 5-meter diameter around the coach pure battlefield.

Tony conciliatorily patted the mark’s shoulder, “We’ve finally moved on from the destructive phase.” Leaning forward as much as he could with the mark’s arms wrapped around him, Tony grabbed a metallic can ( _beer?_ ) to give it to the mark cooing. “Heartbreaker just needs a little comfort from his daddy.”

Steve raised an eyebrow in incredulity.

“The toaster is playing hard to get and Dummy kicked him out of the charging unit. Dummy refuses to be a plaything on the side.” Tony stated matter-a-fact-ly as if this was a regular situation (Which Steve guessed he left behind not only in 1940 but in moving in the Avenger’s Tower). Steve watched the robot crack the can open to guzzle oil. “Heartbreaker just seems to go with the whismy of his heart. He loves to love.” Heartbreaker drunkenly nodded to Tony’s words, breaking out in renew sobs, oil traks running down its face plate, staining Tony’s greased stained wifebeater.

It was obvious where the mark had learned how to deal with heartbreak from . . . Steve realized that explained Heartbreaker’s origins (The Post-Pepper period was forbidden in the Avenger’s Tower. Especially after Tony bastardized the kitchen appliances and they revolted.).

Reaching into the cushions Tony pulled out another clay plate and before Steve could ask what he was going to do Tony threw it in the air.

There was a whirl of the arc reactor charging, a sharp crack, and shards came raining down making. Steve blink.

Wrapping an arm around Hearbreaker Tony crowed, “That’s my boy! That’s how real Starks deal with our emotions—we break shit.” He then leered at Steve over Hearbreakers slumped shoulders, “Or we make things _explode_.”

Heartbreakers’ arc reactor brightened, sniffingly chirping at the praise as Steve turned to leave the workshop.

(If Clint made a comment about his face being redder than Natasha’s Steve manfully walking on. Even as Thor commented how “the Man of Iron has obviously done his shield-brother thoroughly again, verily!”

When Steve caught Heartbreaker chasing after Dummy, who was huffingly rolling away from Heartbreaker to then turn around to maliciously run over his feet when he got too close. Steve wrapped an arm over Heartbreakers' drooping shoulders, "That's not how you treat a dame, Heartbreaker." And then, "Let me tell you how I wooed Tony."

Steve had to get his revenge where he could. That's how loving relatioships worked.) 

 


	4. Boulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laziness is in everyone, even Tony Stark.

Steve stared, which in itself was not uncommon when Tony was involed. But lately it had been coming more and more in the incredulous variety.

  
"Tony? Wouldn't it be easier to just move to another work table?" Steve eyed the situation warily.

  
Tony shrugged his shoulders distractedly which Steve would usually call him out on but pressed his lips together. Tony being distracted would be. ..bad

  
"Hmm? Oh, well, I couldn't really move it, it being triple my weight and Boulder here doesn't mind helping Daddy." Tony glanced under the table from the cannibalized--for all appearances-- grade A bomb to the bot under the table.

  
The bot was huge and heavy looking. Its body sturdy and strong, completely at ease.

  
"What type of bot is he?"

  
Tony glanced up with a proud smile, "Helps with collapsing infrastructure." Then he began to baby talk to the bot, "Ain't that right, B? Who can take up to 16 tons? You can! Yes you!"

  
When Tony threw bolts towards the bots face it chirped before bitting into the finger thick bolts with a crunch.

  
Steve backed away slowly and throught he may vacate thr tower for awhile . En case.

(Later when they hadn't blown sky high and have the press banging at the doors over odd earthquakes ocurring with the Tower in the center Steve returned down to the lab.

Tony was scrunched in the cot covered in grease and Boulder was resting in his charging station.

Walking past Tony without worry of him waking--another 72 hour work binge-- he gently roused Boulder. Waking with a whine Steve quickly reached into his satchel. Boulder's whirl of curiosity quickly became a chirp of joy when Steve presented a 5 inch thick and foot long wrench. A bow siting primly on top.

"Good job," Steve patted Boulder's head.

He then went to go draw with permanent marker on Tony's face while Boulder happily chewed on his wrench.

Steve was trying to train work binges out of Tony and was enjoying the punishmenys as he gleefully drawed little Avengers stick figures all over Tony's face. On his arm he drawed Fury scowling.)


	5. Hydro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Under the sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.newsarama.com/17721-suit-up-iron-man-s-10-best-armors-through-the-years.html
> 
> By the way, if you have ideas for Marks leave it in the comments and I'll write it! Girl's Scouts Honor

"Iron Man," Steve said through the comm as he swam deeper into the ocean. Apparently villains were relocating to more and more exciting locations. Like, the  _bottom of the ocean_.

"Yeah, Capsicle?" Tony said.

"Is there," Steve paused. "Background music on the comms?"

"No?" Tony ended hesitantly. "I mean--Oh! That's just Hyrdo?"

The music that Steve then became louder and with lyrics.

" _Under the sea. Under the sea! Down where it's better, down where it's better! Take it from me!"_

"Hydro's just excited to be down where it's wetter, down where it's better--"  
  


The Little Mermaid, especially after Thor feel in love with the "adventures of the little redhead," became a movie night go to and Steve couldn't be blamed when he was found humming that song all the time.  


End file.
